Overview:
Father Witold Kaczmarzyk has sold out two stand-up shows and hopes comedy can help bring people closer to faith.
Father Witold Kaczmarzyk usually stands in front of his congregation to celebrate Mass. Last month, he stood in the parish hall at Christ on the Mountain in Lakewood with a microphone and a very different goal: make them laugh.
The Polish-born Catholic priest sold out two stand-up comedy shows, drawing 270 people to each performance. Now Kaczmarzyk is planning more shows in April 2027 and joking about how far the experiment might go.
“The joke was like, you know, SNL calls, a Netflix special,” Kaczmarzyk said. “I’m going to be the first Catholic priest in history to have a Netflix stand-up special. So it’s just kind of a joke, but I’m like, what if? We’ll see.”
Kacmaryzk says he hopes to one day perform at Red Rocks; however, he is quick to make clear that the priesthood comes first. The comedy shows and humorous videos he posts online are extensions of the same mission he brings to the pulpit.
“It’s about following Christ, and sometimes it means, you know, facing the truth when you’re telling some difficult messages to people,” Kaczmarzyk said. “Humor really helps to soften it a little bit. You can put the difficult message afterwards, and they remember the difficult message because it’s connected to the joke.”
That approach is a surprising turn for someone who describes himself as an introvert and says stand-up comedy was never part of the plan.
“I’m not funny in Poland,” Kaczmarzyk said. “I’m funny here. It’s a different culture.”
Kaczmarzyk grew up in Poland and studied theology before entering seminary in his home diocese of Kalisz. He later transferred to Sts. Cyril and Methodius Seminary in Michigan, which trains Polish seminarians for ministry in the United States. He was ordained for the Archdiocese of Denver on May 25, 2019, and became pastor of Christ on the Mountain earlier this year.
His unlikely comedy career grew partly from an even more unlikely source: a scooter.
Kaczmarzyk lives about a half-mile from the church and often rides an electric scooter to work on warm days, sometimes while wearing his cassock. A photo of him making the commute spread widely online and helped build an audience for his social media posts. Recent reporting documented his growing online following and viral scooter videos.
“They saw me like in my cassock, like a Batman kind of, waving and just riding,” Kaczmarzyk said. “And so, I took pictures, and it went viral.”
That visibility helped parishioners encourage him to try stand-up. Ron Seggerman, who has served as Christ on the Mountain’s music and liturgy director for 13 years, attended the October shows.
“Like most good comedians, he takes common things in life and exposes them, letting you know about the humor in them,” Seggerman said. One joke centered on Lent and Kaczmarzyk asking a woman why she kept giving up candy instead of giving up complaining about her husband.
“‘Oh, Mom, why are you giving up candy for the 64th time for Lent? Why don’t you give up complaining about dad?’ Well, that’d be too hard,’” Seggerman recalled as the punchline.
Tickets cost $20, with proceeds supporting a parish capital campaign. Seggerman said the church hopes to raise at least $1.5 million for building repairs and maintenance.
Kaczmarzyk also brings humor into his homilies. During Mass on Nov. 8, he told parishioners about arriving too late for a flight at Denver International Airport and seeing the plane sitting at the gate even though the door had already closed.
“I got to the gate, and the gate was closed,” Kaczmarzyk said. “And you can see the plane, like, right there.”
He turned the missed flight into a metaphor.
“Life is like TSA, to be honest with you,” he said. “It’s long. It’s sometimes frustrating and unexpectedly long. Something happens and you might miss your flight to heaven.”
The comedy shows have already prompted interest beyond Lakewood. Kaczmarzyk said churches elsewhere, including in Colorado Springs, have asked whether he would perform for their congregations.
“And it’s kind of funny,” he said. “Now you want me to come to Colorado Springs and do the show at the church. I’m like, wow, now we have to talk about how I do it, the logistics.”
He has also gotten encouragement from Archbishop Samuel Aquila, who recognized him from his scooter videos.
“He saw my name on the name tag, and he’s like, ‘Are you the scooter priest?’” Kaczmarzyk recalled. “I’m like, ‘Yes, Your Excellency.’”
Whether the comedy ever reaches Red Rocks or Netflix remains, at least for now, part of the joke. But after two sold-out shows, Kaczmarzyk is not ruling much out.
“Pope Francis a few years ago invited comedians from the United States for a private audience and some late-night shows,” Kaczmarzyk said. “I mean, I could meet the Pope. Sign me up.”
